


Operation JSB

by Politzania



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Light Bondage, Panic Attacks, Sexy Times, Smartassery, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:31:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4675277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politzania/pseuds/Politzania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bored (and horny) Black Widow is a dangerous Black Widow.  And guess who has a target painted right on him? (Ok, actually on the shield, if you want to be picky.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Target Acquisition

**Author's Note:**

> Set a few weeks after the events of Captain America: Winter Soldier. 95% MCU, with a dash of other sources, plus my own headcanon.

Nat woke up frustrated, alone, and horny. She’d been enjoying a very... vivid... wet dream that was just getting to the really good part when the alarm went off. Goddammit. She’d been doing just fine with her (lack of) sex life until that kiss, but now? Well, now, apparently she needed to get laid. 

But when you’ve outed yourself as a spy/assassin while taking down the largest espionage network ever (which had been infected from the inside by an evil organization over the last... oh... sixty-some years) your social life tends to drop to nil. Less than nil - she imagined there were more people out there who would rather kill her now than fuck her. Hell, there were probably a good number willing to do both (and some sickos who wouldn’t care in which order it happened, said her smartass self). The massive data dump also killed off all her covers, so she was hunkered down for now in Stark... sorry... Avengers Tower. Hiding in plain sight? Well, yeah - but the security here was second to none. Besides - she could get room service. 

Yeah, she could whip together something for an online hookup site - but after the hoo-rah over AshleyMadison.com, she thought she’d pass. Then there’s that whole “swiping right” thing, which just made her feel old. 

But really, she wasn’t looking for a one night stand. More like a fuckbuddy, friends with benefits type of thing. Someone she could stand to be around outside of the sack; and share silly jokes with inbetween the sheets. Someone who had her back while grabbing her ass. But not a relationship - god no. Too much red still on her ledger to even dream of a relationship - too damn dangerous for everyone involved. 

So - with no new prospects in immediate view, she’d have to fall back on known associates. And while her sexual orientation was nearly as flexible as her spine - she was craving male companionship at the moment. Admittedly, women were cuddly and she knew how to make them squeal (and expected the same in return), but she wanted manly muscles and well.... cock, to put it bluntly.. So that cut her options roughly in half right there. 

Let’s start with the obvious - Stark. Almost too easy. She knew he was hot for her when she was Natalie Rushman, and she was more than slightly regretful she hadn’t jumped at the chance back then. But Tony infuriated her as much he attracted her. Besides, he was with Pepper now, and she had no intention of getting between them. (Not even as a threesome? Hm - shelving that idea for now - but definitely worth the consideration.) She marked Stark off the Friends with Benefits list. 

Thor? No, gods weren’t quite her style - plus he’s got Jane, so off the list as well. And despite fond memories of Budapest, Barton was even further off the list; he felt more like a brother now. An obnoxious older brother... who might come in handy for running interference once this operation was in play. She made another mental note. 

Banner? No - not for this operation. To be honest, she was still terrified of the big green guy, but Bruce himself, well, she did feel drawn to him. His wellspring of calmness counterbalancing his whirlpool of rage - maybe he could teach her something. Someday, if and when the ledger was a bit more clear, he might be a good candidate for the whole relationship idea. 

Reaching a bit now.... Coulson? She rather liked older men - they tended to be more thoughtful in bed, with an expanded skillset. And she admired Phil’s quiet, unassuming demeanor that made him one of the best damn agents she’d ever met ... and if that man fucked the way he fought.... oh my. But there was the whole “not supposed to know he’s alive” thing, which would make their next meeting awkward at best. Bottom of the list, but on the list. 

How about Wilson? It figures that Rogers would randomly befriend a guy who turned out to be a total badass. From the minute she and Steve arrived at his back door like two stray cats... he was all in, and rose to the occasion. Literally, in the case of the helicarrier battle. But she didn’t really know Sam as a person versus a comrade in arms. Besides, he was off on an important mission, which would make booty calls a logistical nightmare. However, she did put Sam on the list, just above Phil. 

Which left her where she should have started; the star of her latest round of dreams. Captain Steven Grant Rogers. That kiss: it was just supposed to be mission cover; with Rumlow coming right up the other goddamn escalator. She didn’t expect Steve’s response. The flash of surprise, yes, but what happened next... she clearly recalled actually going a bit weak at the knees (really? who even does that?). She'd had to quickly pull herself back together, be Black Widow. 

The rest of the mission, well, suffice it to say she now felt closer to Steve than anyone else (on the team, or off) except Clint. Did she want to risk that connection just because she had an itch that needed scratching? And then there’s the whole mindfuckery of the Winter Soldier nee James Buchanan Barnes. That bastard had shot her **again** and nearly killed Steve. But “nearly” was the operative word here. 

Who the hell is Bucky.... no shit. The dossier she’d put together for Steve wasn’t 100% complete - she’d summarized here and there and left some of the really disturbing details out (like the fact the Winter Soldier had trained her, back in the Red Room. Steve did **not** need to know that, at least not yet). The one good thing about Rogers being in the hospital for a few days was that it had given Wilson a head start on a scouting mission. Maybe her ... plan ... would serve as a bit of distraction for the good Captain, until Sam could dig up a few leads for them to start tracking down. 

So - Operation Friends with Benefits (needs a catchier name) now had an objective. Find a way to get into Rogers’ pants without fucking up their camaraderie. It was a tall order, but Natalia Alianovna Romanoff was never one to run from a challenge.


	2. Intel and Advanced Scounting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With her target selected, Nat schemes to get Steve alone. Movie night and a cuddle on the couch is the perfect time for her proposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow - thanks for the comments and kudos! 
> 
> I'm still VERY new to fanfic, and this dip into the "dark side" was a little scary (but fun).

Nat enlisted JARVIS’ help to build a dossier on Steve. Sure, she’d been to the Smithsonian exhibit, both before and after he’d been recovered from the ice. In fact, she was there for Rogers’ first visit - poor guy couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable. But the SHIELD/SSR files had a lot more info to give her insight into her particular operation. As she reviewed the files on his life before the army, before Project Rebirth - she came to the conclusion Steve had enlisted as a virgin. She assumed pity fucks existed in the 1940’s, but she couldn’t see him going along with it; too much pride. 

And while the general public (and contemporary press) assumed there had been canoodling with the chorus girls during his USO tours, Nat wasn’t so sure about that. After reading the files, watching and re-watching the interviews with Peggy Carter, and considering that Steve still carried his compass with her photo (the Smithsonian had given it back to him upon his return; a replica was now on display) - she felt certain if Steve had been with any woman, it was Peggy. But the recording of his last radio transmission seemed to belie that notion. And since he thawed out? Barely any opportunity - tho she might have to talk to Agent 13. 

Holy hell -she wasn’t going to be punching Steve’s V card, was she? The thought took her aback... and turned her on. Regardless, she planned on showing him a good time. And figured he would do his best to return the favor, being the gallant sort. At least that kiss had showed promise. But she could only bury herself in files for so long - time for an advance scouting mission.

She asked Steve casually during a team lunch if maybe they could work on boosts and throws in the gym some afternoon. He said he was free after 16:00 and JARVIS confirmed the gym was available then as well. Just before their arrival, the AI conveniently adjusted the temp of the gym upward a few degrees, justifying her skimpy sports bra and bike shorts attire. The bra was a miracle of modern engineering, giving her existing cleavage considerable oomph. She didn’t miss a chance to get them up close & personal with Steve - managing to land just about every time in a position that gave him an eyeful.. and in one case, a whole damn facefull. 

Steve was so damn hard to read. She suspected she was getting to him - if he’d been dressed more like her, she definitely would have been able to tell; but he was wearing loose fitting basketball shorts instead. Shit. She stuck one landing, wrapping her legs tightly around his hips, and thought she detected a promising bulge, but all too quickly his hands were on her waist, lifting her up, then placing her on her feet. 

“I think that’s about all we should do today - your shoulder needs more rest.” Damn his chivalry. 

“If you insist - join me in the shower?” She spoke with a deliberately light tone. 

“Watch who you make that offer to - Stark would be on it in a heartbeat.” Steve responded, also (mostly) joking. 

“As long as Pepper wouldn’t mind; hell, she could join us.” Ha - she finally got a blush out of him, with the one-two punch of language and implied sexual deviancy. She continued, “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” Nat watched his face closely for microexpressions - spotting surprise, embarrassment and pleasure. Ekman didn’t include desire on his list, but she knew what to look for - and spotted that as well. 

But... he didn’t show... and she didn’t really expect him to. This was just an opening salvo. Nat briefly considered making good use of the detachable shower head (it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time) but decided against it; sexual frustration would keep her a bit sharper. Her inner twelve-year-old decided to relabel the operation JSB: Jump Steve’s Bones. Whatever. 

Another confab with JARVIS revealed that Stark and Pepper would be attending a charity fundraising event later in the week; the same night that Thor and Jane planned on attending a Bergman film retrospective. They’d barely seen Banner all week - he’d been chasing down a promising lead on his latest lab project. JARVIS promised to keep him occupied. That left Barton - a quick chat regarding her operation and he agreed to make himself scarce. 

Clint then had the balls to make a bet as to whether she would succeed. They couldn’t agree on sufficient proof - but the mention of “a super-soldier semen sample” cracked the both of them up. She could read him like a book - no jealousy, but rather just a hint of pleasant memories danced behind his eyes. And she knew he saw the same in hers. 

After the two happy couples had departed, Bruce had shuffled back to the lab (Pepper had finally dragged him out for a good meal and some socialization) and Clint did his usual slow fade into the woodwork. Nat turned to Steve, saying “How about a movie night?” Her previous recommendations of _The Sting_ and _Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid_ had gone over well, so Steve trusted her cinematic judgement. They took the elevator to the home theater - she thought _Catch Me if You Can_ might be a good choice, enjoying the aptness of the title. Again, JARVIS had tweaked the climate control, this time dropping the temperature several degrees. That gave her an excuse to cuddle. 

Not that an excuse was that necessary; the team was on the touchy-feely side as it was, and the furniture in the room was conducive to dogpiling. She’d spent several pleasant evenings casually draped across several laps, or sitting on the floor, half-wrapped around someone’s legs. It wasn’t a sexual thing at all - it was about trust and safety.... and heaven knows they all had issues with those. 

So a simple snuggle against Steve’s side, his arm draped carefully over her shoulder seemed perfectly natural, as was her hand resting companionably on his knee. She waited until a relatively engrossing part of the film to start making her move. Her hand was almost three quarters of the way up his khaki-clad thigh before Steve finally said, eyes still on the screen. “What are you doing, Nat?” 

“What does it feel like?” her voice low, not a hint of a joke.. not now. 

“Miss Romanoff, you're trying to seduce me.” They’d watched _The Graduate_ last week; and Steve did a passable Dustin Hoffman impersonation. He was trying to laugh it off. 

“As a matter of fact...” She shifted position, swinging around on her knees so she could face him to see the quizzical look she already knew he was wearing. “You remember the kiss... on the escalator.” 

“Of course. But that was just camouflage - Rumlow was right there.... “ 

“It started out as camouflage, yes... but ... there was something more, wasn’t there, Steve?” 

“Yes...” he responded slowly, voice almost a question. Time for the pitch. She took one of his hands, entwined her fingers between his and held it close to her. 

“So... I don’t know what they called it back in the day, but there’s this thing .... two people who like each other, and trust each other... decide to occasionally have sex. No strings, no expectations... just a roll in the hay every once in a while. Friends with Benefits” She waited a beat. “Would ... that... interest you?” She was sure he could feel how hard her heart was beating, and she took a breath to steady herself. 

“Okay... Yeah.” She had hoped for a bit more of an enthusiastic response. She got it a moment later, when Steve gathered her in for a deep, passionate kiss. That was more like it. Everything that first kiss had promised, this one was delivering on, and more. When they came up for air, she repositioned herself, straddling his lap, and was aroused to feel the Captain well on his way to a full salute. 

“Your place or mine, Nat?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to wait, but leaving wet spots on the leather furniture would be a dead giveaway. She replied, “You’re the Captain, Captain. I am no longer in charge of this operation.” He stood, one hand under her ass, the other around her back, as she wrapped her legs around him again. They didn’t bother waiting for the elevator - he took the stairs two, possibly three at a time, each step producing delightful friction between the two of them in just the right spots. Oh, this was going to be fun....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you'll have to wait til next chapter for the real smut - but hopefully you've enjoyed the trip so far.


	3. First Strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Nat finally get it on - to the delight of both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoy foreplay as much as the next gal, but I'm no tease - so here's the smut you've been waiting for, with more to come. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

They ended up in Steve’s suite. Whether he chose it for a sense of familiarity, or simply because his rooms were closer to the stairwell than hers, she wasn’t sure and didn’t care. A bed was a bed. They landed, tangled in each other’s arms - he was already taking off her shirt. She shivered at the feel of his calloused palms gliding over her skin. He paused as his fingers reached the edge of the bandages on her shoulder. “Uh.... Nat?” 

Son of a bitch. She did NOT want him thinking about the battle on the bridge, or any of the events of the past few weeks - she wanted, no, needed his full attention on the here and how. “Don’t worry about it Steve - I’m a fast healer, and as long as we’re not planning on hanging from the chandelier, I’m good.” She distracted him further by reaching for the waistband of his khakis. (button fly? Really Steve? Aargh.) She was smug to find him equally frustrated by her bra clasp. 

The last few articles of clothing cast aside, Nat finally got a good look at ... well.. the whole package. She’d expected Steve to be... proportional... but her expectations were exceeded. She’d experienced more than her share of cocks and size-wise, he rated in the top five, if not the top 3. But size certainly isn’t everything. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought, as she reached down, and wrapped her hand around the base of his prick. At least her fingers met on the other side (if barely), so not too much of a monster. 

Steve’s physical and vocal response to her touch excited Nat further, she liked signs of appreciation. His hands were busy roaming all over her body, caressing her nipples and sliding between her legs. He didn’t seem timid or unsure - she recalled their conversation in the pickup truck on the way to the abandoned base. No, he certainly wasn’t dead yet! She stroked his cock for a few moments - getting a feel for the territory, and what he seemed to like. 

Nat then got up on her hands and knees in order to move to the next of her nefarious plan. She lowered her head and traced a slow circle with her tongue on the tip of Steve’s cock. (Ow - dammit, Steve! She liked having her ass grabbed, but that was going to leave bruises!) She licked slowly up and down his shaft, sizing things up before wrapping her lips around it, sliding a little further down with each bob of her head. 

“Hey, Nat?” Steve spoke, his voice a little shaky “Unless your .. um.. final objective is a blowjob, you’d better stop now. A guy can only focus on baseball for so long.” Not only was he clear-headed enough to check in with her, he maintained his sense of humor. Yes, she was definitely enjoying this. 

“Thanks for the status report, soldier boy. But can you hold on another inning or so? There’s one more thing I want to try.” 

Before he could respond, she filled her lungs in preparation for her dive. Clint had called her “Woodward & Bernstein’s best friend” once, and (despite being out of practice), she was pleased, and somewhat relieved, to feel her lips reach the base of Steve’s cock. She’d had to completely relax her jaw and throat for this one... but her reputation remained intact. She’d still never had a guy she couldn’t deep throat. She hadn’t been able to hold him as long as she would have liked before her gag reflex kicked in, but she slid back up smoothly, making eye contact as she disengaged. 

“Holy fuck, Nat!”. 

She had actually made Captain America drop an f-bomb... who'd have thought? “That comes next, Steve.” she dryly replied. “But would you like me to go down again first?”

“Yes!!! Uh - no... not if you wanna... you know... “ he made a vague hand gesture. 

“Yes, yes I do. What’s your preferred position?” Might as well be direct about it. 

“Um, ” he stuttered, “I’m not sure what you can .. uh.... ladies’ choice?” She thought she saw what he was getting at. 

“How about me on top? That way I can control the pace and depth a bit better.” She saw him sigh with relief. Honest to god, Steve, women aren’t that fragile... 

She’d gotten plenty of foreplay, and was ready... very ready. Nat straddled Steve’s hips, slowly lowering herself down onto his cock. Oh my god. Oh my GOD. She found herself teetering on the edge of orgasm, and struggled to keep focus... not quite yet. After a moment, she took Steve’s hand, guiding his thumb to her clit as she started to rock in a slow rhythm, which he soon matched. 

It didn’t take long - she felt his muscles tense and had a brief, panicked thought of firehoses, but other than a particularly enthusiastic final thrust as he came, everything was fine. Just fine, as she soon followed, coming harder than she had in a long time. 

She didn’t quite black out, but definitely had to steady herself. As she dismounted, she heard Steve mumble “No, Peggy, don’t go...” and her heart broke just a little. She rested her hand on his cheek, replying “I’m right here, Steve” and nestled beside him. 

A few moments later, he startled, eyes flying open. “Oh no.” Oh no what? Had she triggered some memory for Steve - made an awful mistake? He raised himself quickly on one elbow so he could face her. “We forgot... I didn’t put on a.... oh Nat, I’m so..” 

What? Oh.. OH. She stopped him mid-apology. “Steve, it’s fine. We both have clean bills of health, I’m sure... and the ... other possible consequence... is not a problem.” She suppressed a sudden ache of sadness, of loss. It would never be a problem. Not for her. 

He must have seen something in her face, as he reached out to stroke her cheek, “Are you sure, Nat?” She put a smile on her face, saying lightly, “Google it, Steve, there’s all kinds of birth control options out there now. But if you really want to use a condom next time, I’m sure Jarvis can...” 

“Next time?” he interrupted, “Hm.. tell me more about this “next time...” his face relaxing to a lazy smile. 

“Well,” she replied, “I’d estimate we still have a couple of hours before anyone gets back... so whenever you feel sufficiently recovered...” she snuck a peek, then continued, “which appears to be any time now.... “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I snuck a few feels in... couldn't help myself. Bonus (dated) pop culture points thrown in for the fun of it.


	4. Returning Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Nat continue the fun, taking a break after Round 2 for some snacks. JARVIS spills the beans and Steve plots revenge...

They took things a little more slowly for the second round - the edge of their mutual desire slightly blunted... but only slightly. They enjoyed the simple pleasure of skin on skin; long slow kisses and tender caresses. She saw a frown of concern on his face as he traced the scar on her hip. She blew in his ear to distract him, saying, “How about you give me a bit of a tongue lashing, soldier boy?” Steve proved to have a quite talented tongue, as he buried his face between her thighs. She ran her hands through his thick, blond hair, as he brought her close to the edge. She was less polite in her request for satisfaction: “Steve - Fuck me now!” 

And he did - this time on his knees, her legs positioned over his shoulders. Now that he knew she wasn’t a fragile flower, he didn’t hold back. Nat knew she would be sore the next morning, but didn’t really care. This time she came first, her multiple orgasms finally triggering his own release. Once they’d both caught their breath, Steve suggested making a run to the kitchen. Oh, right.. Nat realized, that overclocked metabolism of his. They threw their clothes back on, just in case, and rode the elevator back down to the main level. 

“Greetings Captain, Miss Romanoff. I assume Operation JSB was successful?” JARVIS, you little shit, Nat thought. 

Steve poked his head up out of the cabinet he’d started to raid. “What operation?” 

“Oh dear - I seem to have spoken out of turn. Apologies for the faux pas, Miss Romanov.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s okay, JARVIS . Heard anything from Pepper or Jane?” 

“I believe the film festival was scheduled until midnight, and Dr. Foster and Master Thor planned to go out for schwarma afterward. Miss Potts informed me that Sir has yet to make a ass of himself at the gala, so she expects they will remain there at least another hour. I’ll instruct Happy to take the long way home. Doctor Banner is currently catnapping in the lab while the system does a data churn. Master Barton is on the roof of the building with a six-pack of cheap beer and a telescope.” 

“Thank you for the updates, JARVIS.” By this time Steve had already demolished an entire package of Oreo double-stuff cookies and had made significant inroads on a half-gallon of chocolate milk. She wasn’t sure if super-soldiers got sugar rushes, but was curious to find out. 

Nat retrieved a Godiva chocolate bar from her secret stash, and had just started to unwrap the foil when Steve came up behind her, nuzzling her neck - “How long have you been planning all this, Romanoff? And what does JSB stand for anyways?” 

“Well, I had to figure out a way get you alone, soldier boy... that took a bit of doing. And the codename? “ She waited until he took the last swig of chocolate milk “It stands for Jump Steve’s Bones”. His spit-take (thankfully over her shoulder) was so worth it. 

Once Steve recovered, he shook his head, saying “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, hm? JARVIS, initiate Operation MNB.” 

“I’m sorry, Captain, I don’t recognize that codename.” 

“S’ok - I just made it up - now, where can I find some rope?” Oh dear...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was on the shorter side - I'm still feeling my way (so to speak) around writing sex scenes. Hopefully it's still enjoyable. 
> 
> FYI - the trigger warning tags kick in next chapter. 
> 
> PS: Thanks so much for the kudos!


	5. Dark Ops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's light hearted plans for revenge do not go as planned..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - this got darker than I originally intended. Trigger warnings for bondage & panic attacks.

It turned out the closest thing to rope outside of Tony’s workshop was the tie-belt to Nat’s dressing gown. After Steve explained the ground rules of the operation (but not the code name) she donned her 4 1/2 inch stilettos to help make up for their height difference. She was currently bent over her own bed, one cheek resting on the mattress, with her arms above her head, wrists bound with the tie-belt. Between the slick satin of the belt and the simple knots Steve had used, she could slip out of that in seconds, but that wasn’t the point. Apparently she’d been a naughty girl. 

Yes, there were a few spanks, but Steve had somehow figured out what would drive her the most crazy - light, gentle strokes all over - her back, her sides, her thighs..... oh dear lord, he had her number all right. He kept up with the gentle stroking as he thrust inside, bringing her right to the brink of orgasm - then stopped. What the....

“Goddamn it, Steve!” She’d figured out the codename - Make Nat Beg. But she was a stubborn bitch.... she lightheartedly swore at him, first in English, then in Russian. In retrospect, the Russian was a mistake. After she’d cooled off for a few minutes, Steve re-engaged... but as she neared orgasm again, something felt.... off. 

Her position, previously quite pleasurable (doggie style was one of her favorites) was quickly growing uncomfortable. Her shoulder throbbed, she was having difficulty breathing, and despite the looseness of her bonds, her wrists ached and burned. This wasn’t right. She started to say something, but Steve suddenly stopped again. There was a moment of silence, then a low, rough voice in her ear said “Beg for it, Natalia. Beg for it.” 

And she was lost. Submission was no longer a game - it was real and it was terrifying. Engulfed in a tidal wave of memories, her vision narrowed as she started to hyperventilate. As the darkness around her grew, she heard another voice, seemingly far (too far) away saying “Nat? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Nat!” She felt her knees buckle as she gasped out a single word.. “Help...” Fade to black.


	6. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat recovers, but won't accept Steve's apology - at least at first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, ladies and gents.

Nat felt strong arms holding her in place. Eyes closed, she struggled violently until remembering whose arms they were and (a moment later) why they were there. She realized, even during her struggle, she’d heard a voice... Steve’s voice, low and gentle, repeating the same few phrases. “It’s okay, Nat. You’re safe. No one can hurt you. You’re safe. I’ve got you. It’s okay...” It seemed as if this was not the first time Steve had recited this litany of reassurance. She thought back to Barnes’ dossier - plenty of nightmare fuel in there, even before he fell from the train. It would have been just like Steve to comfort his friend in this way after a bad night. 

She opened her eyes, startled to see a pair of blue eyes so close to hers - blue eyes.. blue...  
No. Not the demanding, ice blue eyes of a Red Room instructor... no, this was Steve, her warm, funny, caring, brave friend Steve Rogers. She closed her eyes again, so she could concentrate on his words. Yes, Steve had definitely done this before - he wasn’t shaken up , he wasn’t asking questions, he wasn’t asking anything of her right now, he was just .. there. 

He’d added some orienting statements to his litany. “You’re in the Avengers Tower. You’re staying here because it’s safe, because you have friends here.” She wondered if he’d picked that up from Wilson, or if it was just an instinct. She allowed her pulse to slow, her muscles to relax. 

She opened her eyes again. “Hey.” 

“Hey, yourself.” He smiled, and she noticed his right eye looked puffy - apparently she’d given him a shiner during her struggle. He’d wrapped the sheet around her body, and was cradling her across his lap. She held the sheet to her chest and slid to one side, turning to face him. 

“How long was I.... what time is it?” She glanced at the clock - 12:15. “Tony and Pepper are probably on their way back. I think your clothes are over here somewhere....” 

Steve reached for her free hand. “Whoa... Nat.... don’t you think we should talk about what just happened?” And that’s the trouble with Good Guys, she thought - they wanted to talk things out. They wanted to fix things. They wanted to apologize for things that were none of their concern. If he started his next sentence with “I’m sorry” she was going to scream. She felt the old defense mechanisms come into play: the iron wall slamming down. 

“Steve - this was not your fault. Erase and correct; It may have been your fault, but it was not your intent. You didn’t know what was going to happen; hell, I didn’t know what was going to happen ... until it did. But you stayed with me and did all the right things until... I was back. But can we just drop it for now?” Too late, she bit her tongue. Did she really sound that cold, that brusque? She had meant to thank him, but those other words tumbled out instead, and she couldn’t take them back. 

He just looked at her for what felt like a very long while. “Okay. But whether Operation JSB is an ongoing thing or not - we really do need to talk sometime. I’m a good listener, promise.” 

And then it hit her - the second part of the operation: to not sabotage the bond between them, born of bravery and blood. Sharing intel with your team is vital to the success of the operation; that’s one of the first lessons an agent learns. Consider Clint; he knew all her secrets (well, not where she hid her Godiva chocolate) and he hadn’t rejected her. She had to give Steve that same chance; he deserved it. And maybe she did as well. 

Nat moved to sit beside Steve on the bed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You’re right. If we’ve learned anything in the last few weeks, it’s that secrets have a way of coming back with a vengeance. We do have a lot to talk about.” 

“Speaking of secrets....” He gestured vaguely between the two of them. “Not that sneaking around wouldn’t be kind of fun...” 

“How about we sleep on it?” she replied, nestling down into the pillows and tugging at his arm. Which, she supposed, was an answer in itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah - Nat's a tough cookie - tougher than she has to be, sometimes. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed - thanks again for the kudos and comments!


End file.
